DERAIL REPLACEMENT BUS, Tranniesport for London, Thursday (Mediocre Grauniad) — I love travelling on the tube. Where women are women, men are refuse and transsexuals don’t offend me with their alleged existence. But since the advent of free papers such as Metro, it feels like my reading material isn’t my own. Trannies keep nicking my paper.
No sooner do I put one paper down to browse through another than it gets appropriated by some man with breasts. And when I demand its paperwork proving it’s the gender it spuriously claims to be, it looks at me funny!
I believe in share and share alike, but this morning I put my copy of Transsexuals: The “Women” Behind Hitler down on the seat opposite and someone who looked like a bearded man but was far too pretty to be one by birth — men do nothing for me, so this was obviously a woman — just leaned over and took it. Damned cheek! I called it a penis-wielding misogynist magazine rapist, but it just looked at me oddly, so obviously didn’t have a penis.
Does this happen to you or do I just look like a mug or soft touch? Don’t they know I work hard at discussing serious feminist issues and gender determinism in society?
I believe they do. Transsexuals have been hounding me for years, just because I quite objectively described them as misbegotten scum who should be put out of our ideological misery. Hideous twilight in-betweeners, trying to hijack female privilege from real women. Vile and odious halfling monsters oppressing women and children, particularly me, by their mere existence and interrupting my important journalistic work and committing the misogynistic hate crime of interfering with my speaking fee income. Hell, I bet they’d question Julie Burchill’s feminist cred.
The worst was last night after a few serious feminist drinks at which we resolved that “Andrea” Waddell had logically relinquished all right to be considered human. I woke up in the morning to discover some fucking tranny had puked all down my shirt. Worse than that, one had pissed my pants too. Fucksakes.